


Absent Reflections

by antiqueRobot



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, No set relationships, Sadstuck, Vampires, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiqueRobot/pseuds/antiqueRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do I look like?” You say. You can’t remember. It’s been so long since you saw your reflection, and the topic is a nice distraction from the pain that is settling in your heart. She seems grateful for the diversion as well.</p><p>Dirk visits his best friends apartment after years of being apart and a recent break-up with a certain human boy.</p><p>(A small drabble about vampire friends)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absent Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure if I shall do anything else with this. Thoughts?

The wood floor of her apartment is warm against your naturally cool skin. You are lying on your side, staring at her while she lies in the same position a few feet away, facing you. You flick your tongue over your fangs. You’re thirsty.

“You want a drink?” she asks. You nod.

She stands, tossing the empty bottle she had when you arrived in the garbage. You sit up, leaning on the side of her cotton candy pink coffin. A ridiculous color, in your opinion. Yours is classic black, with orange bedding, which is much more sensible. Though, Roxy had never been one to stick with the norm. 

You watch her as she pulls out a blood pack from her mini fridge and retrieves some sort of alcohol. She mixes them. The smell is intoxicating. You have never really been one for alcohol. You never liked the taste and it takes a lot more to affect vampires, so you always found it pointless. Roxy had always loved it though; for as long as you could remember she has had it with every meal. You figure that’s why she frequents the bar for her prey.

The two of you have been friends for such a long time you almost can’t recall the day you met. It was long ago, in the 1600s. You were a lowly commoner and she was a royal. You had bumped into her in the street, and you were both grabbed in the middle of your apology. Then you woke up in your undead state with her crying next to you, in a similar state.

She became your best friend at that moment. The two of you have been together for a long time. It was only recently that you parted ways, and now you are here, sitting on the floor of her modern apartment leaning against her brightly colored coffin.

“I missed you,” she says, sitting in front of you and handing you a glass. You gratefully take a swig.

“I missed you too, Rox,” you reply. The drink is well made. She’s had practice.

“Why are you here? I thought you were going to travel the world with your new human companion.”

You wince. “He left. Decided he would rather be alone. Besides… he’s human.”

She frowns. “I’m sorry Dirk. We both know how humans can be…” She looks away and you know she is thinking of that girl that she had a thing for in the 1930s. Their break-up had been messy.

“What do I look like?” You say. You can’t remember. It’s been so long since you saw your reflection, and the topic is a nice distraction from the pain that is settling in your heart. She seems grateful for the diversion as well.

She reaches over touching your hair. “Your hair is a light blond, nearly white, and it defies gravity. You look like you belong in an anime.” She giggles and you laugh. She then takes that opportunity to pull your shades off. “Your eyes are a bright orange. The irises glow, like they eyes of those robots you make.”

You grin at her. “Your hair is white blond too, and it does this little flippy thing at the ends.” You touch the ends of her hair. “And your eyes are hot pink. They glow too.”

The two of you share a smile, and you are glad you are back in her presence.


End file.
